No Prior Experience
by wericdream
Summary: Clarke Griffin might have been a princess on the Ark, but here Bellamy Blake was king. Rated for language, may go up.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own The 100. If I did, Wells would not have died. **

Clarke was not a good person.

If she had been a good person, she would have noticed. She would have known that Wells would never have done the things she accused him of. Finn had only know him for-what? A matter of days, and he had known that Wells was lying and taking the blame for a crime he had not committed. But Clarke, who had known Wells from before either could crawl and until his death, hadn't been able to see the truth. She had been blind to Wells devotion, his desire to protect her. Clarke hadn't known the truth, but she should have. She wish there had been more time for things to go back the way they were before, when Wells was just as much a part of her as she was him, when he was the right limb and she was the left limb.

But Wells was dead. _Dead._ If she had thought about it harder, Wells had been the last connection to the Ark and to her old life, which the old Clarke had died along with him. But all Clarke could feel was the growing despair and gutting guilt that tore into her. Wells had always been there for her, even when it seemed as if he was against her, he was always on her side. Yet Clarke had despised him and berated him for a crime he hadn't done, had left him in a pit of vipers that wanted his blood for the acts of his father, and the only solace that she had, the only small redeeming moment in a pitch black of wrongness, was the fact that they had made amends before he was gutted down. That he had known she knew the truth and that she would forever hate herself for accusing him of betrayal and that he had forgiven her having never blamed her.

But she was a horrible person.

Charlotte had been a troubled child. It did not discredit the death that the girl had caused, but Clarke had been cruel in the rejection of the girl. Or maybe she had been just. It was impossible to tell what was right and what was wrong anymore. It had seemed right that Murphy be punished when she had believed it was him; although she hadn't wanted his death either, nor Charlotte's. Well, neither was true, but neither was false either. It was hard to know how dark or good her heart was anymore either.

She was terrible really.

Clarke's mother had been a healer and, like all children of the Ark, she had learned the trade from her mother's knee. She knew how to make the medicine and the teas that would keep the others alive, how to mend a bone and stich a wound. Clarke knew if a temperature was too high and a pulse to low, if a sickness meant death or merely needed rest. _But she did want it._ It would have been far easier to paint and draw like she had before and left the healing to someone else. On the Ark she had her mother, the betrayer of her father. On Earth there was no one else. There was only her to heal and mend and she loathed it. After days began to pass on after the landing, people began to search her out, seeking out a cure for an ailment and a soothe to worries over sickness. Clarke hated it. She wanted to turn them all away and run far, far away, where she could be left to draw and breathe. Her skills were a gift to be used and she needed to own it.

Clarke was a flaw.

She was not pure hearted, good, and forgiving, not a born leader-book smart, but not people smart-, not as strong as she willed herself to be, not as sure as she needed, and destined to fall all alone if she continued being this new Clarke that had replaced the child Clarke after the death of her father, only to be replaced again as she understood what she was: a flaw. It was a bitter and shattering pill to swallow when a person learned who they truly were, especially when they learned they were nothing more than a flaw.

_The King _

The plan was fucked. Not that Bellamy had ever truly had a plan beyond getting down to Earth with his sister and protecting her, but still, any subsequent plans were fucked. There were a million and one reasons for this. First of all was the Do-Good Squad that Octavia had wound up in, therefore Bellamy was connected to as well (thanks Octavia). They fought Bellamy tooth and nail on every decision, never noticing the damage they were causing by undermining his authority. This was a group of 100 criminals; and yes, not all were true criminals, some had crimes less heinous then everyone else, but there were still murderers and rapists in the midst. It was a hell of a lot more productive to have the masses on _his_ side than on the side of someone worse than him. And yes, they were many far worse than Bellamy and his black heart.

Then there were the grounders and the acidic fog. Earth was not as empty as they hoped. It was less toxic then they had expected, but the acidic fog had caught them off guard. Earth had seemed wide and open when they landed. Now getting caught too far from camp could get them killed. What was worse was the fact that they had limited resources. Oh sure, Earth was filled with food and land, but harvesting those resources was difficult with crude tools fashioned from adolescents, most of whom had been locked in a cell for a number of years merely waiting to be killed off on their eighteen birthday.

_Happy fucking birthday. _

It was fine. Really. No, it was great. Bellamy just had an unseen clan of natives- some genetic defect cousins that had somehow managed to live in a radioactive hell for the past ninety-seven years-that were out for blood, an original group of 100 delinquent teens that was comprised of murderers and mere pick pockets, con artists, and plain shit-for-luck-fools, acidic fog that left a person dying but not dead, just close enough to whimper for mercy, and a band of revolutionaries that were _kinda right, _but such a pain in the ass that he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing it. Oh, and his little sister happened to be a part of that band. That same little sister that he had shot a guy for and happened to have half of the camp panting after. Not to mentation a giant decaying space station of adults that were bound to come knocking at their door eventually or die in space without a sound. The second was preferable, but it wasn't like they would know. They would be left wondering if the people left on the Ark were alive and coming or dead and no longer a threat.

Princess's little club might have called Bellamy a bastard a time or two. And they were right, in more ways than one, but was it any wonder? Bellamy hadn't planned on having the burden on his shoulders. _The plan was fucked up._ He had only wanted to be with his sister and to protect her. And yeah, maybe he wanted to be one of the first to return to Earth and be able to stretch his legs. To be able to become something other than worthless scum underneath the elite's feet. On the Ark Princess would never have blessed his kind with a look. But here, she had to look at him. Answer to him. _Listen to him. _His word was good as law on Earth. He was someone here.

Clarke Griffin might have been a princess on the Ark, but here?

Bellamy Blake was the king.

**I'm not going to admit that this is good. I haven't written in a long while and so this is a way to get me back into writing. I like this show. It's not great right now, but I think it has such potential so I felt like doing a fan fiction. Also it's a way for me to get some more BellamyxClark goodness because there's not a lot of fanfics on them right now. I plan to take it a bit slow, mostly because I don't like it when characters fall into love in a millisecond and I don't see these two as people who could fall for each other quickly. Although I believe Bellamy has had a thing for Clarke for awhile; he just tries to fight it. She's one of the few that he listens to (for a minute at least). Also, I'm not in love with Clarke has a character yet. I'm not going to change her too much, but I want to flesh her out a bit. **


	2. Chapter 2

The cold air bit and gnawed at her pale skin, but Clarke refused to let it daunt her. She would rather brave the growing chill in the air then to stay in the camp for a moment longer. The sun had yet to peak over the horizon and she knew it was dangerous to make a trek in the forest early and alone, but the stubbornness she had inherited from her mother had kicked in and she had snuck past the slumbering boy on watch. She wanted more seaweed and needed to get to it before the others in camp woke and came to pester her with aches and cuts. Besides, one of the others would have wanted to come with her. That was the last thing Clarke needed or wanted at the moment. She needed to breathe and clear her head; something that was difficult in the confines of the camp. Many of the 100 needed her to doctor them and she didn't feel like listening to health complaints on the hike to the small river. She didn't want to hear Octavia complain about her brother or gush about boys. Octavia's years of confinement had created a dam of words and thoughts that gushed through whenever silence occurred. Clarke was not awake enough for that. Nor was she awake enough to watch after Jasper who, despite making a grand recovery, was still weak and skittish outside of the walls. It didn't help that Clarke felt a need to protect the pale, lanky boy. The same could be said for Monty. He was built a bit hardier than his childhood friend, but Clarke still felt like a mother bird to both boys. Clarke didn't want to take care of anyone at the moment. That was all that she did. She needed a break.

Finn would have gone with her if he had seen her leave the camp. Finn would have been a welcome distraction by being fun and laid back, not someone she had to take care of and not a person who would ruin perfectly good silence with a mess of words, but that was before. Now he was someone that Clarke had grown close to…very close, only to learn that he was already claimed. They slept together and then bam! His secret girlfriend appeared.

Clarke wanted to hate them; she truly did. But Finn hadn't meant for it. She knew that. He couldn't have expected to see Raven again. The journey between the Ark and Earth wasn't exactly a five minute walk. They couldn't even communicate with each other. It was like an unofficial break up. He didn't think he would ever see or speak to Raven again. Finn didn't think he was cheating; he thought it was over. Clarke could understand that. It didn't dull the sting, but she understood. And Raven. Clarke truly, truly wanted to hate her. Clarke felt pale and boring next to the beauty that was Raven Reyes. Raven had the boy that Clarke wanted, she was beautiful and smart, strong and skillful, and, seemingly so far, a great person. Not to mention brave. Clarke wanted to hate her for all the reasons above, but it was for all those same reasons that she didn't. Still, it burned to think of Raven and Finn together.

So no, Clarke didn't want Monty, Jasper, Octavia, Finn, or anybody else walking with her in the early dark. She wanted the clean, cool air and wind in the trees as she made her way to the river without the disturbance of others. She didn't want to talk or think, just enjoy the openness that Earth gave her. Peace. That's all that she wanted.

"Hey Princess!"

Of course, that's not what she was given.

_The King_

He had seen the blonde hair girl leaving the camp. Bellamy wasn't happy. Everyone was told to stay within in the walls during the night. Even the most idiotic of the 100 understood the danger that the grounders poised. No one was to go out at night when there was no light beyond the stars and no one was meant to go out alone to disappear at the hands of some grounder without a word. Hell, it was partly Clarke's idea. And yet here the princess of the Do-Good Squad had not only snuck out, but she had snuck out alone.

Bellamy didn't give a crap about her safety personally, at least he didn't want to, but she was the only healer they had. As bad as things could get in the camp, it would be far worse without a healer. Besides, she had made such a fuss about safety that her throwing it back in his face had him locking his jaw. He saw her shoulder's slump as his words reached her and she came to halt.

Clarke turned to face him, annoyance flashing in her eyes. "What?"

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Bellamy came up to her, his tall frame towering over. _Good._ He had grown up on the Ark with her people towering over him, it was his turn to look down on her.

She let out a slow, tired sigh laced with annoyance. "I'm going to go harvest some seaweed." Clarke turned and began to walk away, only to trip over a rock.

Bellamy caught her by the elbow easily. "Are we low?" Clarke shoved off his hand and brushed invisible dirt off her pants.

"No, _I'm _not. But it's better to have a large supply of it. Especially since everyone seems to keep getting hurt."

The 100 weren't so surefooted on the new Earth and accidents happened. The building of the wall hadn't help scare off the scrapes either; plenty of people had harmed themselves by not paying attention to the task at hand. It might help explain why the blonde doctor seemed so exhausted. There was no one else that any of the 100 teenagers-subtracting the regrettable number of people who had perished and the (not so regrettable) one that was banished- could turn to. Bellamy knew she was loaded down with the burden of it. He knew that more than anyone. Still, he didn't care for the twitch of her eye or the attitude swirling around the dragged out "I'm" on ownership of the seaweed.

Bellamy crossed his arms. "And you couldn't wait until morning to drag some poor soul along with you?"

Clarke's eyebrows furrowed. "By the time everyone else is awake, I'm going to be swamped with patients and, maybe it escaped your notice, but I want to be alone right now."

That caught Bellamy's attention. Alone? Meaning his presence would cause a great and terrible frustration to her plans?

"Well then," he smirked as he wrapped one tan arm around her stiff shoulders, "let's go get some seaweed."

Fifteen minutes later filled with "Bellamy, go away" and "Bellamy, stop" and Bellamy did not regret his decision. It was a honor really, teaching the princess what it felt like to have your great plans meddled with by some annoying pest. However, eventually, it became boring to merely be a presence and, besides, Bellamy had a bone or two to pick with the privileged brat.

"It's the rule. You should have stayed in camp until dawn and brought someone along with you." Bellamy lectured as he trailed behind her. Clarke had tried leaving him behind, but her slim legs were no match for his long- and fit-body.

"I thought there were no rules." Clarke bit back.

Bellamy let out a frustrated laugh. "And I thought you said there should be. Besides Princess, I'm the leader here. If I say there are laws, then there are laws."

"What great leadership skills."

Bellamy grounded his teeth. "I didn't see you complaining when we _both_ came up with the ruling. It was your idea, remember?"

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Yes, because you always listen to everything I say."

Bellamy came to a halt. "What's your problem Princess?" He raised his hands in frustration. "You asked for laws and I gave you laws. You wanted everyone to be safe and we put up the wall. You wanted for people to listen to you. Guess what? They do."

"No one asked for your dictatorship."

"And no one asked you to be a interfering little brat either, but you seem to like that role."

Clarke snapped around to face him. "Excuse me? Interfering little brat?" She took slow, measured steps towards him. "I'm trying to do what's best for everyone."

Bellamy cocked his head. "No Princess, you're doing what's best for you."

Color started to rise in Clarke's pale cheeks. "For me? Was granting mercy to Adam in the best interest for me? Is constantly patching everyone up the best thing for me? Is-" She was cut short by Bellamy's hoarse laugh.

"And there it is." He clapped his large hands loudly. "Bravo. I wonder how long it would take you today."

"What?"

"That holier-than-thou attitude. It's endearing how you've maintained that 'I'm better than you' attitude from the Ark." He stalked closer to her. "You have to be the resident healer here because that's the only way you'll remain important to everyone. No one here would care about you if you didn't have that skill. I doubt you had many friends on the Ark, if any besides the Chancellor's son. And even then I bet it was only because your parents served on the council together. The messenger birds in the low-class areas love chirping about how the Chancellor wanted your mother-and not because she was a healer." Clarke's eyes widened and Bellamy was torn between congratulating himself and berating himself. Why was he baiting her like this? It wasn't his intention when he set out after her. Sure, he wanted to chew her out a bit for disobeying the laws she herself had fought for and agreed upon, but that was it. Bellamy wasn't a complete and utter idiot; he knew that it was in the best interest for everyone if the two worked got along. They were much stronger together than apart, but Bellamy had twenty years of pent up anger. His grandmother had called him a hot head and warned him that his rage would be the end of him, but Bellamy could care less. He had a right to be enraged at the world. He was born to the lowest caste. He was strong, but that was nothing to the people like Clarke Griffin. It meant he was a work horse, an animal to be used, but never respected. _Fuck that. _He'd be damned if let anyone here tell him that he was worthless and wrong. He was doing his best here, only to be continuously refuted by the princess and her Do-Good Squad.

"You heal and show mercy not because you want to, but because it's in your best interest of being wanted and important."

Silence buzzed around them like a heavy haze. Dark coal and bright blue stayed locked in an internal battle.

Finally, Clarke broke. "If anyone here is doing what's in their best interest, it's you Bellamy. We both know that." She turned away, continuing on her way to the river.

There was nothing else for him to do. He followed.

_The Princess_

He was right and he was wrong. Clarke didn't want to dwell on the why or the how on either right now, because she knew what his outburst was really about at the moment. Charlotte was dead in a way it was her fault and his fault for multiple reasons.

_If I hadn't done this, if he hadn't done that…_

Wells might still have been alive and Charlotte as well. The downside was the fact that Murphy would probably still have been in the camp, but Clarke doubted that Bellamy saw that as a negative. They had been somewhat friends and defiant business partners. She had seen the struggle in Bellamy's eyes when he had exiled the wiry boy. Bellamy may have or might not have liked Murphy as a person, but as a right hand man he had been useful to Bellamy. Clarke had ruined that.

Because Clarke was a flaw and that's what she did. She ruined things and no amount of healing others could wash that away.

"Princess…" Bellamy's voice came out low and cautious. The sun was starting to peak out beyond the shadow of the trees and Clarke could just make out the outline of the river. "I, uh, didn't mean-"

"Yes you did Bellamy. We're not perfect, either of us." And it was true. "Let's just get the seaweed and get back."

Clarke didn't point out that it was the first time Bellamy had ever attempted to apologize to anyone. Her mind was too full of far too many confusing thoughts to add in the enigma that was Bellamy. He was hot and cold; cruel and kind. Strong and weak. Clarke had seen his temper and his disregard of any life other than his own and that of his sister. He had also seen him strive to protect little Charlotte and look out for the other small children that were a part of the 100. He was strong enough to lead a group of criminals and too weak to murder in full. Bellamy was like the wind that she had grown to love in this brand new Earth. At times gentle and calm, at others, loud and hard, bending trees to its might.

Clarke had too many other thoughts to add in Bellamy. Too many thoughts to wonder how Bellamy could go from calm to cruel in the intake of a breath. Too many confusing thoughts to ponder the moments he stilled long enough to drink her words, and the moments he spoke as if he wished she was another dirt mound in the make shift graveyard.

Clarke didn't dwell it at all. There were people to heal and a future to plan and a boy to forget. All of which took precedent over one Bellamy Blake.

**So a big thanks to everyone who reviewed and to anyone else who decided to give this a story a chance to read to the next chapter. I didn't mean for them to fight this chapter, but I think we all know these two do what they want. I'm trying hard to stay close to their character on the show, but it might take me a bit to get to it. So please bear with me. **


	3. Chapter 3

CRACK!

"Agh! You bitch!" The boy convulsed in pain.

"You'll be fine." Clarke rolled her eyes as she not-so-gently laid the boys now set leg back down. She barley spared him a glance as she looked to his friend. "Make sure he keeps the leg elevated and stays hydrated. He should be able to stand again in a week or two, as long as he doesn't try to soon." The friend nodded and Clarke climb down the ladder, eager to be away from what had become the med bay for the 100.

"You're getting good at that Griffin."

Clarke let out a frustrated breath. "It comes with the practice."

Raven nodded, her coal black hair shadowing over her caramel skin. Clarke watched her lithe body as the girl made her way over to the blonde. It was easy to see why Finn had connected with her back on the Ark. Even easier when Raven took charge and made things _work_. Clarke wondered how it felt to build and repair things rather merely patch them up and pray that fate was kind.

"It seems like you're getting a lot of that."

Clarke bit the inside of her cheek. It was awkward for the two girls to be around each other, and Raven had to know that as well, to feel that. It was a shame, but it was the relationship they had. "Unfortunately. There are a lot of injuries coming from building the walls. Not to mention the boys that go hunting."

"Or the ones who get attacked by the grounders."

Finn. Of course it didn't take long for them to wade into those waters. "He's recovered quickly."

"Yes, but you wouldn't know that. You haven't been around to check on him like the others."

It was obvious why, wasn't it? "I'm sure you've been taking great care of him." Clarke rummaged through her bag as she walked out of the pod ship. Just look busy and maybe, just maybe she'll go away. "And, um," Clarke licked her lips. This plan wasn't working. Raven's dark eyes followed her. "I have a lot of patients. I don't have time to check up on a third of them like I need to…" Just go away. They had an uneasy alliance-both wanting the best for the "colony" on the ground and for Finn. And that meant that Clarke needed to stay far, far away, and the pair never needed to utter his name around the other. "And from what Monty told me, he's up and walking around."

"And you think he should be?" Raven's voice increased in pitch. I have been telling him for a week to stay still and let himself heal, but he won't listen to me. You and I both know he needs to rest a lot longer than he has. If he doesn't he could-"

"He's fine okay! He's the Spacewalker right? And if he won't listen to you, what makes you think he'll listen to me?"

"Because you're the only doctor we have down here. And maybe-just maybe-if there's the two of us to chain him down he might actually listen."

They were starting to draw a crowd. It was hilarious almost. In a vast and open world, there was still no privacy to be had. Clarke swallowed the lump in her throat, burden with fury and stepped closer to Raven. "I'll be by later, okay? I have to check on the grounder first."

Raven looked like she wanted to argue, but luckily she merely nodded and walked away. Clarke let out a low, shallow breath. It was possible that eventually today would get simpler. But, right now, with the prospect of seeing both Raven and Finn together later, and having to go check on the grounder that had been tortured, albeit under her orders, with a probably still seething Octavia, Clarke sincerely doubted it.

_The King_

The cheers and shouts from the camp drummed in Bellamy's ears as he and the hunters made their way back to camp. They had managed three hogs in the hunt, although, with their tusks the size of a child's arm, one of the boys had been injured.

Princess wouldn't be happy about that.

He should care a bit more about than he did. Especially after that morning when he had baited her a tad bit more than he had meant to, but at the moment he more pressing matters.

Like a younger sister that currently hated his guts. Bellamy was sure that if the grounder was free and uninjured, Octavia would order Bellamy's head on a spike and the grounder would only be oh so happy to indulge her. Not that Bellamy blamed her. She couldn't exactly be blamed for anything now could she?

"Bellamy, what should we do with him?" Hector gestured to the half screaming boy whose leg had drenched his pants in blood.

"Take him to Clarke and let her handle it." He dismissed the slow witted boy away with a swat of the hand. "Don, start a hog on the fire and make sure everyone gets fed." The dark haired boy nodded and set off with the others, the monstrous hog carcasses being worshipped as gifts as they passed by the people of the camp.

_Good. _Every bit of food he bought back granted him the awe and respect of the others. He needed that, needed the power it granted him. But power came with a price. Bellamy roughly ran his fingers through his hair. The idea of relieving stress with one (or a dozen) of the girls of the camp seemed like a wonderful idea. Half of them openly latched onto the leader of the 100 as often as they could, making it clear as day that they would willingly offer what they had if he asked. The other half was already taken, more reserved, or Clarke. But the first half was free and wild and he imagined himself sinking into the joy it gave, but he knew it wouldn't fix what he had broken.

So he sought out the nerd with the goggles. Jasper was his name, the boy that had saved Octavia apparently and then sought to save her a second time with Bellamy and his rescue group. That would have granted him respect from Bellamy, in a way it had, but the attack the boy had encountered had left his mind less than…sane. Goggle boy wasn't someone Bellamy would have talked to on the Ark and being on Earth was no different. But Bellamy knew that if there was anyone that knew where Octavia was, it would be the slightly unhinged nerd.

Bellamy found him huddled against part of the wall that had survived the storm. His friend Monty was with him and for that Bellamy was glad. Jasper seemed slightly saner around one of the other Do-Gooders. They both glanced up wearily as they saw Bellamy approached. Bellamy wasn't sure whether he should smirk or grimace at that. It wasn't his fault that his arm was bigger than both of the twigs combined.

"Jasper, where's Octavia?"

The boy shivered against the chilling air. "With the grounder. As always."

Bellamy let out a frustrated growl. He had told the guards of the grounder to keep Octavia away from the grounder, and had forbidden her to be around him. He should have known better. Once there was a time she would have listened to anything coming from his mouth as the gospel, but that was before angry half-lies had poured from his mouth like acid daggers. He wanted to make peace with her; it's all he had thought about doing for days. But she had managed to avoid him so far, and it would be harder trying to apologize to her next to the man he had tortured.

"Clarke's there too." Monty spoke up, leaning away when Bellamy shot him an angry, questioning look. "Doing a check up on the grounder."

Great. As if it was a near impossible situation before. The idea of seeking out a stress-free girl was sounding better now.

"There's some hogs to eat. Make sure you get some."

_The Princess_

"Go away."

"Octavia, I'm here to help."

"You've helped plenty already."

Octavia didn't spare the blonde a glance as she continued washing the grounder's wounds. He had been moved from the pod for reasons unknown to Clarke, to a tent sitting underneath the tree. The grounder was still tied up, the rope binding him uncomfortably to the tree, the tent preventing prying eyes from seeing him without a guard coming after them. Although none of the stationed guards were there at the moment. Clarke figured Octavia had somehow coerced them into leaving, how, she didn't want to know.

It would figure that the one patient Clarke wanted to see-not really, but more so than the promised later one-would be the only one that she shooed away from. Clarke dropped to her knees, completely exhausted with the day.

"Octavia, I know I screwed up. I'm not perfect okay? I was scared out of mind and so was Raven. All we wanted was to save Finn. You would have done the same to save Bellamy-"

"Right now I would do to Bellamy what he did to him." Octavia turned to glare at her. "And the same to you."

Despite the rage burning in those Blake eyes, Clarke didn't believe in that fire. "No you wouldn't. You're not us."

Octavia huffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You might not be easily forgiving, but I don't see you as the revenge type either."

"Revenge is a Blake trade mark, haven't you noticed?" She turned back to the grounder, dipping the cloth into the water and ringing it out. Clarke saw how the grounder's eyes watched and studied Octavia's every movement. She wondered how long the man had watched the young girl before the day he had taken her away. Octavia often went to the butterfly trees. Had he watched her then, enticed by the girl still new to the world? He turned his eyes to Clarke and she felt herself pinned by those dark orbs of fury. Rage seeped into the very air in that tent. It was a mistake coming there, but then, it wasn't either.

Clarke locked her jaw. She wasn't Wells who was always calm and collected, who _had _always been calm and collected. She had a temper same as any Blake and she had almost enough of the sibling by now, even if the tension with one was the fault of hers.

Clarke through her bag at the ground. "I was wrong okay?! I know that! I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do. I was on your side in the beginning, remember? I still regret telling Bellamy to go ahead with it. But you know what? Finn was _dying._ Do you think he," she stared pointedly at the grounder, "would have done any different if it was you who had been on the table foaming at the mouth?" Clarke's eyes dared the grounder to show any sign of contradicting her, any at all. Their eyes locked, but he hesitantly looked away. _Exactly. _"I can't make you forgive me, either of you, but I did what I thought I had to save a friend. So hate me for being stupid, but you can't fault why I did it."

Silence settled over the trio. None of them moved. The wait was killing her. Clarke didn't want Octavia to hate her. They wouldn't have been friends on the Ark. There was the class difference and they would have never met. Then there was the fact that Octavia was more free in so many ways than Clarke. Clarke would have envied her and looked down on her for so many reasons, and none of them that Clarke felt right for, but it was the truth. But here on Earth they had formed some sort of pack, Clarke, Octavia, Jasper, Monty, and even Finn, and Clarke had grown accustomed to it and had found herself welcoming it. Things were bad enough with Finn as it was, and Jasper wasn't always himself, Monty was more often than not tending to Jasper, and Wells was dead, and Clarke had never truly had a friend that was a girl before (or even one that wasn't Wells), and she was just so tired of losing people. She couldn't take one more person leaving her. _No more, please, no more. _

Octavia licked her lips, stalling until the grounder nodded to her. Still, she wasn't sure, but being locked under the floor for years only to be hurled into solitary had left its lasting impression on the young girl. "Here," she handed the rag to Clarke, still not looking at her, "you clean the right, I'll clean the left. He has a lot of cuts and bruises. Check his ribs too, I don't trust that they're not broken…" Clarke eagerly took the rag and sat down next to her. Octavia snapped her head at her. "I'm not saying you're forgiven. Out of everyone I thought you'd do what was always right and you failed that. But I'd rather have a healer on my side than against me." Clarke nodded weakly. It was a start. "And besides, I can imagine what someone would do to save a loved one." She said barley above a whisper, but Clarke caught it and it burned.

Later was not a moment she was wanted to think about, but it was there, hovering over head as she washed at the wounds she had helped command into being. Clarke had committed so many mistakes, so many sins, she had lost count. But she was willingly to pay the price to make it end. Like seeing to a certain boy she was trying hard to forget.

_The King_

Bellamy walked away from the small tent, taking careful, measured steps. He didn't want to be heard.

"_Revenge is a Blake trade mark, haven't you noticed?"_

Sometimes he thought he should have stayed on the Ark. He had done more right there than he had on Earth.

**I finally caught up on the last episode. So far everything that has happened on the show (as of episode seven) as happened in the story. Therefore this is a week after episode seven. I may or may not (probably not) keep following the show story line. **

**And, am I the only one who thought the grounder was hot? And yeah, Bellamy too. **

**Thank you for all of the great reviews! And TheGirlWithTheGreenLightSaber, nice to see you again, lol. **


End file.
